


Voice In The Dark

by ertrunkener_Wassergeist



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Daemons, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Hunting, Light Angst, Mother-Son Relationship, Siege of Lestallum, Suspense, World of Ruin Big Bang (Final Fantasy XV), because of the hunting, the original male character is a kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ertrunkener_Wassergeist/pseuds/ertrunkener_Wassergeist
Summary: It has been nearly ten years since the Chosen King vanished. Gladio gets ready to go to Hammerhead for the anniversary. Meanwhile the Huntress Chris stays in Lestallum where tensions keep rising when more and more daemons keep appearing outside humanity's last bastion.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Original Female Character(s), Iris Amicitia & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8
Collections: World of Ruin Big Bang





	Voice In The Dark

Chris heard the groaning creaks of an Iron Giant and froze. The stink of puss, mold and rotting tissue clogged her nose, and left an oily film at the back of her throat. She wanted to retch. 

Praying that her luck couldn’t be this rotten, Chris pressed herself against the rock to her left and hoped it and the dead shrubbery would be enough to hide her. Her scalp prickled and her whole body was as tightly wound as a bowstring. Had she managed to walk right into a daemon nest?

The crunch of the dying grass beneath Chris’ feet sounded unbearably loud in her ears, as she shifted her weight to look at the person crouched between the branches of a dead evergreen bush. It was dark. Nearly too dark for her weak human eyes to see, but she could make out at least that much.

And to think that she had wanted to go alone on this hunting trip. Never had Chris been as glad as she was now that Libertus had practically shoved Gladio at her when she had been about to leave Lestallum.

A Fire Bomb bounced by. Its crackling heat brushed along her arms and made her involuntarily huddle deeper into her hiding place. This was not good.

Its flickering light was just enough to let her see Gladio lift his hand in a needless signal for her to wait. Like she was amateurish enough to try and run with an iron giant and a flock of bombers in the vicinity. Those fuckers always came in flocks. And they loved to pursue their prey.

The ground beneath her feet trembled with each step the Iron Giant took. Chris bit back a curse and forced her rapidly beating heart to calm down. She prayed, hoping beyond reason the thing wouldn’t trample the tracks she and Gladio had been following for hours now.

With soundless and smooth movements that belied his large form, Gladio crept through the dead underbrush, clinging to the rocky ground. The younger man vanished from view seconds later.

Golden and red light flickered in the darkness as another Fire Bomb bounced past, too close to her hiding place for comfort. 

Chris stood there and cursed her own uselessness. She may be a hunter, yes, but she hunted wildlife and not daemons. Her traps would be useless here, as would her crossbow. Pale fingers skimmed over the grip of a long knife. The gesture didn’t grant her even the illusion of security.

She had no idea for how long she stood there, huddled against the rock like a frightened child. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. 

If Chris hadn’t been on the look out for him, she would have missed Gladio coming back. The Fire Bombs had moved far enough away that she couldn’t see their light from her position anymore, but she could still hear their crackling.

“The Iron Giant is moving east,” he whispered near soundlessly. 

Chris gave a barely perceptible nod.

Gladio had come close enough she could feel his breath ghosting along the shell of her ear. Tension practically radiated off of him. Chris knew he would love to kill every daemon they had come across, but that was not why they had come out here.

They needed to find that anak herd. Desperately.

“Are the tracks still there?” Her voice was barely audible to her own ears.

Gladio shrugged. 

Great. May the crystal save her from daemon hunters that didn’t care to learn how to track wildlife. Chris breathed out a puff of air, and started to make her way through the dead underbrush clinging to the rocky ground. The Fire Bombs were nothing more than bouncing lights to her left, and the putrid smell of the scourge had let up for a bit. They were as alone as they could be out here. For now.

The tracks were still there. Thank the light, the tracks were still there. It was a small herd - three adults and two calves. One of the adults was lagging behind. Chris gave Gladio a nod and together they began to jog along the wilted and destroyed landscape. They had lost precious time while hiding from the daemons.

“There,” she whispered, and held her hand out to signal Gladio to stop.

A few metres away, barely seen in the natural light that the darkness still oh so graciously allowed sometimes, she saw a lone Anak. It was thinner than she would like, and had a bloody flank - which must have happened a few hours ago at most - which was most likely the reason the animal was behind the others. Chris hoped to the Astrals that it wasn’t a wound caused by a daemon. 

Before Gladio could do more than look at her, she had unhooked her crossbow, and notched a bolt. Instinctively, she slowed her heartbeat and her breath like her mother had shown her so long ago. Her mother used to say the bolt could feel her restlessness and would become restless in return. Chris allowed herself a quick smile at the memory and focused all her attention on the Anak in front of her, trusting Gladio to be on the lookout for daemons and other animals that might have smelled the blood. 

Chris took a steadying breath, and another. She waited. 

The Anak lifted its head like it could feel her attention upon it. That was the fatal mistake. With a whirr, the bolt flew through the air. It pierced the Anaks eye, killing it instantly. 

“Nice shot,” Gladio whistled.

Chris clicked her tongue in disagreement. That had been a risky shot. Had she missed the Anak would have bolted and alerted the rest of the herd. Aiming for the flank bore less of a risk, but again, a shot like that would not have killed instantly and alerted the others. 

“We need another one,” Chris determined. “This one is too thin to feed us all for long.”

“They’ve all been too thin,” Gladio said, and ignored the glare Chris aimed at him.

“You know how to field dress an anak?” she chose to ask.

“Yeah, sure,” Gladio nodded after a second of hesitation. “Learned how to during the… the road trip. Why’re you asking?”

“This one’s too thin,” she repeated. “The rest of the herd cannot be too far away.”

Gladio looked like he dearly wanted to protest. Though in the end, he just sighed and nodded. With the tingling of blue tinted light, he summoned a knife into his hand and stepped closer to the carcass. Chris suppressed a shudder. No matter how often he used magic in her vicinity, she doubted she would ever get used to it. 

For her second target she chose the non-pregnant cow. The herd was resting close to the river, where still a few stubborn greens were clinging to life. Once again Chris returned to that quiet place within her that helped her aim, and once again she hit her target straight in the eye. With a dull thud the large body fell to the ground, and the remaining animals fled.

She sent Gladio a signal with her flashlight and proceeded to field dress the anak. They had to hurry. With each second they remained here, Chris could feel the tension rise in the air. It was ridiculous, but she felt like a thousand eyes were watching her, it made her hair stand on end and her skin itch.

Chris did not know for how long she had worked when Gladio arrived, dragging his anak carcass behind him. It was an impressive show of strength, and he didn’t even seem overly winded. 

“Seems like we tracked them in a large circle. The truck isn’t too far from here. I’ll get it while you finish up, alright?”

Chris hesitated. She honestly did not want to be alone out here, but she acknowledged his reasoning. So she nodded. He shot her a quick grin that was probably supposed to be reassuring and vanished into the darkness. 

For a moment it looked like clouds, slowly drifting in the breeze. Was it just her or was the darkness beginning to gather into dust-like particles? Chris shook her head and took a deep breath. No need to get paranoid. She stared down at the knife in her hand. Why was she feeling like their time was slowly running out?

* * *

“Next week,” Gladio rumbled out of the blue after they had gotten into the pick-up truck. 

“What’s next week?” Chris asked, distracted with the task of maneuvering the car onto the road.

It was silent for a while. Chris concentrated on the road. The headlights were a stark contrast to the darkness around them. A daemon jumped out of the way, snarling and spitting. She had no idea what kind it had been, but it's shrieks could be heard even inside the car.

After enough time that Chris thought the question would just go ignored, Gladio answered: “The King going missing. Next week it’ll be ten years.”

A heavy silence settled between them. Chris had no idea what to say and felt like an idiot to boot. She had never met the King in person, only knew of him through newspaper articles and newsreels over the radio, back when he had still been a prince. This was why Gladio had acted so oddly over the last few days, and she hadn’t noticed. 

Her conscience rattled through her skull. She should have noticed, should have remembered. But there had never been a time to.

“It doesn’t feel like ten years,” she offered and immediately regretted it.

There was an undeniable truth to her words. It didn’t feel like ten years, true. It felt so much longer than that. The darkness made time slow down to a crawl, until Chris felt the only thing keeping her sane was counting the seconds. First nothing seemed to move forward, and the next second the people around her had more and deeper wrinkles, and twice as many grey hairs. 

Gladio gave a nondescript hum. “I’ll be going to Hammerhead in a few days. The old gang will be there, too.” A beat of silence. “Do you want to…”

Chris shook her head before Gladio could finish the sentence. “This is between Ignis, Prompto and you. I don’t want to intrude on that.”

“You’re not intruding. The others would be happy to see you again.”

“I know.” Chris tilted her mouth into something that might be called a smile. “But I don’t need it. You do.”

She wanted to say more but stopped herself. Talking about closure with Gladio so close to the anniversary wasn’t a good idea. 

“Will you be okay?” he asked, voice soft.

Shouldn’t she be asking him that? She knew the only reason he hadn’t broken down by now was because he held onto the dwindling hope that their King - his friend and brother - would return.

When had the years of darkness and hunger and hardships worn Chris’ own hope away? She searched for something to say. For something to distract her from the crushing realization that no human would ever see the dawn again. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her heart racing and her breath coming in carefully controlled bursts.

“Cor wants to go into the city.”

That startled her out of her spiralling thoughts. She didn’t need to ask which city Gladio meant.

“What? Why?”  
“He says he has a feeling. You know how he is by now. Trying to get more information out of him is like trying to tame a king behemoth.”

“Did he tell you when he wants to go?”

“Tomorrow. I think it’s his own way of remembering.”

Something within Chris relaxed. Gladio wouldn’t join the Marshall on his suicide run. 

“What does he think he’s going to accomplish there? The last group that went there has been out of contact for months now. They’re probably all dead by now. And getting resources out of the city is too cumbersome to be practical in any way. Not with the daemons and the MTs and that crazy Motherfucker.”

She took a ragged breath, trying to calm down. Gladio just watched her, arms crossed and face blank.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and didn’t quite know what she was apologizing for.

“It’s alright.”

Chris shook her head.

“No, it isn’t.” _Nothing is alright._

* * *

They had to take a detour to avoid the tunnel. A nest of daemonwalls had taken up residence there and Chris had no desire to take the risk, no matter how much Gladio grumbled about it.

They took a break near an old inactive haven when Chris broke the silence between them.

“Gladio?”

“Hhmmm?”

“When you’re back from Hammerhead, can we talk?”

Gladio looked up from instant noodles.

“You can tell me now. There’s no one here.” A cackling laugh drifted over the rocky plain. “Other than a few goblins.”

Chris gave a quiet snort and considered it.

“No,” she decided. “I don’t want to distract you. Go to Hammerhead. Go see Ignis and Prompto. Then, after you’re back, we can talk.”

“Chris, you’re scaring me.”

She looked down at her can of beans. If she looked at him now, looked at his worried frown, the way he tended to press his lips together, she would tell him. But if she did, Chris knew Gladio wouldn’t go to Hammerhead. She wanted him to have that closure, even if he didn’t recognize it as such.

“It’s nothing bad.” _I hope._ “It can wait for a bit longer.”

“If you say so.” He still sounded unconvinced and worried.

“I do.”

* * *

The last leg of the journey back was spent in a lighter mood. It started with Gladio, who fiddled with the radio as soon as they were close enough to get a reception. At first there was nothing but static, but not a minute later a lively beat filled the air. It was an old folk song about herding garula through the marshes of Duscae, while the shepherd thought about the love he had left at home.

Against her will Chris’ fingers started to tap out the beat, her head started bobbing along and soon after she started to sing. Her voice was dry and raspy, not singing material in her opinion, but after having to be quiet for most of the day, she wanted to be loud. To vent some of the things that sat deep in her chest and so she sang, and she did so as loud as she could. 

Gladio’s voice - deep and throaty - joined her soon after, and together with the singer over the radio, they belted out a duet. 

When the song ended they were both breathless and smiled broadly at each other. If their smiles ended up being a tad forced, none of them commented on it. Another song started - this time a piece from Leide that had been popular before Insomnia had fallen - and then another. They sang along, and if they didn’t know the lyrics, they made up the words.

After the third one, Chris felt her smile become more genuine. It felt good to do this. 

“ _Sorry to interrupt your partying, folks, but now it time foooor… the weather._ ” Came the voice of the newscaster, a man in his forties - that always sounded like he was high as a kite. “ _I know, I know, nothing new here, but maaaaybeee… nope. The forecast for tomorrow morning is the same as every morning. It’s gonna be dark. But I’m making no promises, folks. Maybe we’ll see some green in the clouds again. Naaaaa, wouldn’t that be something?_ ”

“Who let Chuck man the radio station again?” Gladio asked, laughter in his voice.

She shrugged and grinned at the man. He wore sturdy and well worn clothes. Long cargo pants, a long sleeved shirt that had been patched at the right elbow by her a few weeks ago and an old leather jacket. His smile chased away some of the worry lines and made him look years younger. His amber eyes sparked. 

“You know what?” Chris said while Chuck rambled on. “You should shave.”

Gladio sputtered in indignation. “What? I’ll have you know that beard looks good on me.”

“It makes you look like a hermit that stumbled out of his cave for the first time after a month.”

“We _have_ been out here for some time now.”

“Oh come on, it’s barely been more than a day. That’s no excuse.”

“If it bothers you so much, maybe you should shave it for me,” Gladio said and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. 

Chris gave a snort and shoved him gently in the shoulder as Gladio chuckled.

In front of them the lights of Lestallum appeared.

* * *

Chris thought herself to be a mature adult that took her duties seriously. As such she did not jump out of the pick-up truck the moment it came to a stop within the safety of Lestallum to find her son, Ales, but made sure the Anaks Gladio and her had been able to shoot were handled by the proper people. 

Which wasn’t all that difficult, considering some of the Meldacio hunters made sure some of the more daring people didn’t come too close. Still, as soon as the vehicle came to a stop a throng of people gathered around it, their excited voices audible from inside. The noise level rose dramatically as soon as she opened the door. 

Laughter filled the air, yelled congratulations along with demands to hand the meat out as soon as possible. Chris’s feet hit the cobbled ground, and she stretched out her limbs, the dull ache in her muscles abated slightly. A few moments later Gladio stood next to her, close enough for their arms to brush against each other. This time she allowed herself to bask in the safety his presence exuded.

Relief and pride filled her. She had managed to provide for her people, had managed to make sure they all would survive for another day. Chris shared a look with Gladio and couldn’t help but smile when she saw her own feelings reflected on his face.

 _We did it_ , his eyes seemed to say.

Chris couldn’t help herself. She pulled him into a tight hug. Even standing on her tiptoes she was barely on eye level with his collarbone. He gave a startled laugh and barely a moment later his large form seemed to fold around her as he hugged her back. Chris allowed herself a few seconds to breath in the smell of sweat, sword oil and the spicy muskiness that was pure Gladio. When she managed to extract herself from him, he let her go readily. 

“Thank you for coming with me, Gladio.” Chris had to raise her voice to make herself understood.

The man snorted. “You would have managed fine without me.”

“Still. It would’ve been difficult.”

He nodded.

“Mama!”

The loud call made them both turn around. Ales pushed through the crowd, slipped through the space two hunters made when they recognized him. He slammed into her hard enough to make her stumble half a step backwards to compensate for his enthusiastic momentum. Thin arms wrapped like a vice around her, his pale face beaming up at her. 

Once again Chris was struck with the realization of how tall her son had grown over the last few months. 

“You did it!” he exclaimed. “I knew you could do it! Lucia wouldn’t believe me when I said you would bring back food.”

“Next time you see Lucia you can tell her that there was never any doubt. Your mother is the best,” Gladio grinned.

It chased away the worry lines that had started to carve themselves into his face.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a mean swing with that monster you call a sword,” Chris said.

“But usually I hunt daemons, not game. A sword isn’t really practical then.”

Still beaming - having his mother back within the safety of the city was way better than any amount of meat in his opinion - Ales bounded over to the large man and gave him a tight hug as well.

“Thank you for looking after mama,” he mumbled into a muscled chest.

The words were barely audible over all the noise the people around them were still making.

“Sure thing, squirt,” Gladio said and returned the hug. 

Chris watched over them both, smiling. She knew how much her son looked up to Gladio, and truly, he wasn’t the worst role model to have. A strong and steadfast protector, an honest man, with a temper, true, but the years had taught him to reign it in.

“Will you come back with us, Gladio?” Ales blurted. “Granny Betula is making dinner to celebrate! She said you’re invited.”

The adults shared a look over the boy’s head. Chris bit her lip and nodded. Gladio sent her a smile, wide and gentle, with something that was close to gratefulness, that made warmth creep into her cheeks. Like this kind of smile always did. 

“I’d be glad to come, squirt,” Gladio answered and tousled her son's hair.

Ales tried to swat the large hand away and grumbled something about not being small, but the pleased look on his face ruined the intended effect. Instead of mature, it made him look cute. Not that Chris would ever tell him that. His pride would be severely wounded - for all of five minutes, after all.

“What’re you doing here anyway, Ales? Shouldn’t you be with Granny Betula and help her with the household chores?”

“But maaaaaaa,” her son pouted and blew out one of his cheeks.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh. 

* * *

A few days later they stood by the old truck that Cid had souped up, until it looked twice the size and thrice the weight it had originally been. It was packed with supplies bound for Hammerhead. Normally it would be Talcott who would make the supply run, but this time it would be Gladio.

“You be careful, you hear me?” Chris demanded, a mess of emotions clogging her throat.

“I don’t want you to go!” Ales exclaimed, tears in his eyes, for all that he always said he was too old to cry now. 

Chris knew her son thought of Gladio as his father, and while she was happy for her son, she had taken some time to come to grips with this realization. For years she had grieved after her husband had died, but now, looking at the man in front of her who leaned down in an effort to comfort Ales, she felt like she could invest in a relationship again.

Whatever Gladio had said, Ales sniffled quietly and nodded. The smile on the boy’s face was a tiny, trembling thing, but it was there. Chris watched as Gladio’s expression softened a bit more and smiled.

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Gladio said with a slight smile teasing at his lips, as he stood up to face her. “After all, you promised me a talk.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Chris suppressed the urge to press her hand against her stomach. Suddenly she felt like crying. 

“Hey,” Gladio murmured, stepping close enough she could feel the heat radiating off his body like a furnace. “Are you sure you’re alright? I can- I could stay, you know?”

For a moment Chris was dumbstruck at his words. At what he was offering. There was something fragile in his eyes as he looked at her.

“N-no!” she stammered more forcefully than she had wanted to. “I’m alright.”

“Chris. This is clearly eating at you. There’s always next year, I’m sure Ignis and Prompto will understand.”

“Don’t you dare use me as an excuse to back out of this. You’re seeing the other two rarely enough as it is.” Chris sighed and softened her tone. “I’ll still be there when you get back. Ales, too. You should be more worried about yourself. You’re the one who is travelling across half a continent.”

“We’re going to make sure he’ll come back in one piece,” one of the hunters who would travel with Gladio said with a grin.

“More like he’ll look after your asses,” Chris muttered.

Gladio snorted, amused. The other hunters started to pile into the truck.

“It’s time,” he said.

For a moment he stood there, looking increasingly awkward and unsure, then he steeled himself and slowly moved closer. Chris could have protested, if she wanted to, but she didn’t. Instead she closed her eyes and accepted the unexpected kiss. It was soft, and hesitant, only growing firmer when Chris pressed closer. This tasted like a farewell, which made something in her gut twist uncomfortably. 

Somewhere to the side, Ales made a noise halfway to disgust. Chris couldn’t help the grin and stepped away. 

“Stay safe,” Gladio said, a sincere smile illuminating his face. He turned towards her son. “You look after your mother for me, will you?”

“I will, papa,” the boy grinned only to slap his hands over his mouth with a startled expression.

Gladio looked like he had been hit over the head with a polearm. Chris couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing until her sides ached. He cast her a wide eyed look, which she managed to answer with a tender smile and a nod.

“I’m sorry!” Ales blurted, looking close to tears again.

“No, no. It’s- I feel honoured that you think so highly of me as to call me your father,” Gladio said, that fragile look back in his eyes.

He hugged the boy close.

“I don’t want you to go,” Ales muttered.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Gladio promised and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Here,” Chris said, and held out a folded piece of paper.

It was a photograph. One Prompto had taken of all three of them, during his last visit to Lestallum. Chris had dared to use precious paper to make this copy for him.

“Thank you,” Gladio choked out and carefully tucked it away.

He visibly forced himself to turn around and climb into the truck, where the others had been waiting with various levels of patience. As the truck drove away, Chris couldn’t help the empty feeling nestled in her chest.

The next four days passed slowly, until Iris burst into the breakroom for those who manned the wall around Lestallum.

“They found him!” she exclaimed to a surprised audience. “Noctis- His Majesty! He’s in Hammerhead!”

For one heartstopping moment, Chris forgot to breathe. She caught Iris’ gaze, who was beaming with joy and hope. This- this was… how?

“No one really knows,” Iris said, causing Chris to blink. 

Had she said that out loud? She still sat at the table, a steaming mug of cheap instant coffee in front of her. The other two people in the room, both hunters on watch duty as they were to go out due to injuries shared a look with her and broke out in excited questions.

“Where did they find him?”

“Where has he been?”

“Will he come here?”

“Does he have-”

Iris raised her hands as she came further into the room. “Woa, woa, woa. One after the other, guys. Talcott picked him up during his supply run. He had to take a detour close to Galdin Quay due to sudden movement from a daemon nest. Said the King was just there, walking along the street.”

“Just like that?” one of the hunters asked.

“Just like that.”

Finally Chris found her voice again. “How… how did Gladio take it?”

“He seemed calm, settled almost. He said he was doing okay, and sounded sincere enough about it,” Iris answered and slid into the seat next to her. 

Chris released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip. She was happy for him. She had seen how much this lack of purpose had slowly eaten him up from the inside. Not even her or Ales had truly been able to help.

“That’s good,” she murmured, looking down.

“Hey.” Iris lightly bumped their shoulders together. “He may not have said it out loud, but my brother loves you. You and Ales both. He just needs time now and then to work through his feelings. When he gets back with the guys I’m sure he’ll pop the big question.”

“Iris, no!” Chris protested. 

They had barely started to talk about anything. Much less marriage. Unbidden, one hand settled on her stomach, only to be jerked away seconds later. She hoped Iris hadn’t seen the gesture. 

The younger woman laughed. Her brown hair was shorn into an undercut, giving her an impish look. 

“Even the guys agree with me,” she said with a nod to the other hunters in the room.

Both were sharing grins with each other. Chris huffed and rolled her eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the turn this conversation had taken.

“We’re not talking about Gladio and me here. What does His Majesty plan to do now?”

“Right,” Iris nodded. “You’re not going to like it, Chris. They’re not coming here. They’ll go to Insomnia to try to regain the city. Something about the Crystal, but Gladio wasn’t too clear on that one.”

Chris had stopped listening the moment she had heard Insomnia. That cursed city’s name. How many people had died now in an effort to regain it? A growl worked itself up her throat. Could Gladio really be this stupid? He had promised her he wouldn’t set foot into that city again, two years ago, when he and a few others had gone to scout it out, and only three people out of twenty had made it back. He had _promised_ her! Was his word to her worth so little in the face of Noctis Lucis Caelum?

Oh, who was she kidding? Of course it was. She bit the inside of her cheek against the sudden upwelling of tears.

“How long ago did he call you?” she whispered.

“Hm? Oh, maybe an hour ago? After that I dialed Noct’s phone like an idiot.” Iris chuckled. “Hey, are you alright? You’ve suddenly gone pale - well, paler than usual.”

“I’m alright,” Chris ground out between clenched teeth. “I just need some fresh air.”

With that, she jumped up from her chair, grabbed her coffee mug and stormed out the door, ignoring the calls behind her back asking her what was wrong.

For a few minutes Chris stormed blindly through the street leading along the improvised wall surrounding Lestallum, until she found a niche wedged between an old car and the wall of a building, she could duck into to be alone with her thoughts. It was dark here, the only light being cast by the flood lights shining through the small gaps in the wall. Chris slumped against the brickwall and sighed. 

She shouldn’t have stormed out like that, but… 

Now the tears came. It was stupid. So, so stupid to shed tears over something like this. One stupid promise, so easily broken. 

How could everybody talk so easily about going to Insomnia? How could anybody even want to go back there? They needed to concentrate on keeping what they had now, and not look at what had once been. The time to run after one's dreams was long over. 

With a shuddering breath, Chris straightened, ready to go back and apologize to Iris for running out on her like that. She was just about to turn around when something caught her attention. 

A sound.

It was one she had come to know well. The high pitched cackling of goblins. There weren’t supposed to be goblins anywhere close to Lestallum. With a heavy frown she tried to gaze through one of the thin gaps in the wall between two large sheets of metal. For a second or so the light blinded her, but when she squinted, Chris could make out moving silhouettes just outside the light barrier. 

She stepped back and pursed her lips. The nearest watchpoint was just ten metres to the left. Why hadn’t they sounded the alarm? With hurried steps she made her way over and started climbing the metal stairs.

“Hey! Are you sleeping up there? Can’t you see the go-”

There was no one there. Chris muttered every curse she could think of. It was an impressive long list. Whoever had been supposed to be here would be in so much trouble once she found out who it was. She carded a hand through her hair and considered what she should do now. 

Without really realizing it, she stepped closer to the bannister and directed her gaze into the eternal darkness. A goblin cackled; a second answered. Chris strained her eyes and tried to get a better look at them. That’s when she saw it.

A breathless yelp passed her lips and the coffee cup slipped from her numb fingers. It landed on the ground outside Lestallum and shattered into dozens of tiny pieces. Chris leaned further out, holding the metal handrail in a white knuckled grip. This was impossible.

There, just barely visible to the human eye in the darkness was a horde. A small one, but it seemed to grow steadily right in front of her eyes. Chris bit the inside of her cheek until she could taste blood. The pain was enough to startle her back into the present. Without thinking further about it she hit the big red button that hung within easy reach on the wall. Sirens started blaring, loud and insistently. 

Barely a minute later Iris appeared at her shoulder, face pale and drawn tight.

“A horde,” Chris said without being prompted, pointing towards the writhing mass of shadows within the darkness. 

Iris cursed. “How did no one notice them?”

“Who was supposed on guard duty on this part of the wall?” Chris asked back.

There was no answer. Iris’s lips thinned even more. The ugly scar on her neck bobbed as she swallowed. “There are barely any fighters left”, she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris swallowed the spiteful comment burning on her tongue. 

“What’s going on?” someone asked behind them.

It was a boy. A teenager barely old enough to start doing guard duty. His hands trembled as he stared at them, wide eyed and terrified. 

“Go to Holly and Jeanne. Tell them to reroute as much power as they can towards the light wall. Even a horde shouldn’t be able to cross it, when we max out the power,” Iris snapped.

“A- a horde?!” the boy exclaimed.

“Yes, a horde. Now get going”! Chris snapped, suddenly furious. 

The boy scrambled. Iris shot her a look. She ignored it and instead directed her attention back towards the daemons. They seemed to have given up on stealth - if they were even capable of something like that - and in the flickering light of the bombs she could see goblins, imps, hobgoblins, nagas, skeletons and flans. For now the nagas and the bombs were the most dangerous, but Chris knew that could change from one moment to the next.

She was startled out of her observations by the tickling touch of something against her face. It felt like a snowflake. She rubbed the skin there. Her fingers came back stained a smudgy black. 

“What the-?”

“Look,” Iris said next to her, pointing into the sky. 

Above their heads, where the light barrier was thinnest, dark particles danced in the air like falling snow. Most disintegrated upon direct contact with light, but some found their way down and settled on the ground like flakes of ash. Dread began to pool within Chris more than it already had. This couldn’t be good. 

Iris and her stood there watching the flakes fall until the light barrier grew brighter, lights and electric lines humming with energy, while the daemons hissed in fury. 

* * *

People crowded the main square of Lestallum, nervous and afraid. Dave stood on the table that made up Vyv’s kiosk, informing the crowd of the current situation. He must have seen the horde once the alarms went off. 

“... so I ask all of those unable to help to stay in their homes. Everyone who wants to fight should it come to one, talk to Dustin. Those that can’t fight but want to help otherwise, go to Cid. He’ll make sure to run you ragged. Jeanne, try to contact Cape Caern and see if they have the same problem as us. Holly, are we good on electricity?”

Chris bit her lip, hand pressed against her stomach. Her eyes caught Iris’s gaze. She knew they both would fight, but…

The crowd shifted as Holly stepped to the forefront. She was dressed in her usual heat resistant overall, accompanied by a heavy utility belt slung around her waist. Her brown hair was interspersed with silvery strands. She looked stressed. 

“There’s good news and bad news,” Holly said, voice shaky with nerves but clear. “The good news is the power lines can take the additional output no problem.” Here Chris joined the crowd in the relieved sigh. “The bad news is that we can hold the lights at maximum capacity for four days tops, if we don’t get more meteor shards.”

Silence descended upon the crowd, heavy and suffocating. Chris felt herself shiver. Was it just her, or had it suddenly gotten rather cold? She chanced a look at Iris, who was staring at nothing, face set in grim determination. Then people started moving. It was eerie how silent a few hundred people could be. The only thing that could be heard were tense whispers, children demanding answers and the shuffle of feet as people arranged themselves how Dave had demanded. 

Chris spied her son sandwiched between the elderly couple they shared a house with. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had raced over and clutched Ales close to her. The boy held her just as tightly, trembling. 

“What’s going to happen now, mama?”

Chris leaned down so she could kiss the crown of his head. His hair was a raven wing’s black, like his father’s had been. 

“You have to be a very brave boy now, my little hunter.” She used the nickname he used to love as a small child but was starting to grow out of. This time he didn’t protest its usage. “I’m going to help make sure the daemons don’t come into the city. You need to stay with Granny Betula, okay?”

Ales nearly slammed his head against the underside of her chin with how fast he raised his head. He stared up at her with large eyes, unshed tears threatening to spill.

“No! You can’t go, mama. What if you- if you…”

Doing her best to smile while feeling like crying herself, Chris crouched down until she was of an eye level with her son. “Oh, Ales. I know it’s difficult, I promise I won’t die. But you have to stay with Granny Betula. It would help me very much, if I knew it was you looking after her. I’ll be back as soon as possible and then I’ll start teaching you how to hunt.” 

Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady as she said that. So many people had already died. There was no guarantee that she would come back alive from this one. That any here would still be alive in four days time. She knew it wasn’t fair to load these responsibilities upon her pre-teen son, but she also knew that if he didn’t feel like he was helping, he would do something reckless. Like his father. Both of them. 

For a moment it looked like Ales was about to protest again. But then he nodded, sniffling. 

“You promise?”

Chris held out her pinky finger towards him. “I’ll certainly do my best.”

Ales gave her a wobbly grin and linked his pinky with hers. 

* * *

For the first day nothing much happened. Well, that wasn’t quite true, but the daemons didn’t do much of anything. Within Lestallum people were a nervous hive of activity. Planning new guard shift rotations, taking an exact inventory of what they had to work with. Weapons, food, meteor shards and other materials.

Cid led his people with a strong hand - and many swear words. He was too damn old, he complained at their first real strategy meeting a few hours after Chris had discovered the forming horde. It wasn’t exactly untrue, but it didn’t change the fact that Cid Sophiar was their best weapons maker and mechanic. Aside from Cidney, but his granddaughter was currently at Cape Caern. 

Chris herself was kept rather busy as well. Dave had come to her with the idea of building traps, which was a good idea in theory, but someone still had to go out there and place them.

“Has anyone managed to contact Aranea?” Chris wanted to know.

Jeanne, who sat in the corner managing the radio equipment, answered. “She’s currently in Tenebrae. It’ll take her at least two days until she’s here.”

Some of the tension eased out of the room. They - Dave, Holly, Cid, Jeanne, Iris and her - sat in a now unused bar that was situated in a side street just off the main square. 

“Ask her if she could make a detour to the Plate of Cauthess on her way back to pick up some more meteor shards,” Holly requested. 

Jeanne nodded and went back to tinkering with the equipment. 

“So. Traps.” Chris pressed her lips together when all eyes settled on her. “It’ll not be impossible, but I need more people for it. Iris and I aren’t going to cut it. Also those on guard duty need to watch our backs. Reliably.”

Was she still pissed that a whole guard post had been ditched? Yes. Very much so. 

Dave winced. 

“Granted,” he said. “I’ll round up some people.”

Chris shot him a look while Cid snorted. 

“Show me what traps you have in mind and I’ll see what I can scrounge up,” the old mechanic said. 

“Thank you.” Chris shot him a quick smile.

“At least one of you young people got manners.”

“We would all be nicer, if you wouldn’t cuss so much, old man,” Iris grinned.

“Hah. That would be the fucking day.”

* * *

On the second day, Dave, Iris, Chris and three others started planting the traps just inside the protection of the light barrier. Chris had barely slept at all.

* * *

At the beginning of the third day the horde had grown to nearly twice the size it had been when it had been first discovered. For now the most powerful daemons present seemed to be a lone Aramusha from what the scouts could tell. 

By the end of the day Aranea arrived. Without any more meteor shards. The tension was nigh unbearable once that fact was revealed. 

“A scourge infected zu has taken up residence at the Plate. We were lucky we saw it before we barged in right like a bunch of desperate idiots. We’ll prepare and set out again tomorrow. If Holly’s math is correct, we should be back before power goes out.”

Chris did her best not to point out that they were actually a bunch of desperate idiots. 

* * *

The morning of the fourth day was greeted with Aranea’s departure and the same subdued kind of tension that had been thrumming through the city for the last few days. 

Chris watched the lights of the bright red airship vanish into the darkness from her guard post, before she returned her attention back to the mass of daemons writhing and cackling just beyond the light barrier. Their sounds sent shivers down her spine. One would think living in near total darkness for close to a decade now would have made her get used to them. It very much hadn’t. 

She breathed through a wave of nausea.

Behind her, Dave climbed up on the platform Chris stood on. 

“How is it going?” he asked in lieu of a greeting. 

Chris looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. Dave was in his late forties now, though he, like many other people, looked older than that. Over the last few days his face had gained a waxen quality that was mildly worrying. 

“Some of them are getting bold,” she said, instead of voicing her thoughts, and pointed towards where an Alv was dancing close enough to the light that she could see its details thrown in stark contrast. 

Dave frowned, carving the worry lines even deeper into his face. “Cid and his little group of tech enthusiasts are nearly finished,” he said.

At that, the corner of Chris’ mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. By the end of day one of their siege, as people were starting to call it, Cid had come up with a few ideas on how they could deal with the daemons without getting too close to them and getting violently murdered. 

One of those ideas had been catapults firing over powered shrapnel bombs into the horde. The old mechanic called it some old fashioned crowd control. Chris liked to call it an absolute safety hazard, but there were certainly enough targets to hit, so as long as the rock Lestallum was built on didn’t collapse beneath her feet, she would be happy. 

Barely an hour later Iris came over, an excited glint in her eyes, to tell them the catapults were finished. There were five of them. They didn’t look like much, cobbled together from scraps of metal and car pieces as they were. But if there was one thing Chris believed in, it was the effectiveness of anything Cid built. 

Dave motioned to open one of the main gates which Chris, Dave and a few others were guarding at the moment, and the small war machines were pushed outside. Two were positioned to face down the road while the other three faced the viewing platform. The meteor shards the power plant had been built against, would guard their back. Large parts emitted just enough energy to repel the daemons, if not enough to produce electricity. 

Chris watched from where she stood as two people each loaded to catapults. No one spoke. The tension could have been cut with a knife. 

Until Cid clanked up the stairs to where Chris and Dave stood, muttering curses under his breath. That old grease monkey was one of the few people that had hardly changed over the years. He needed a cane now to move, and he had more liver spots and less hair, but his mind was as sharp as ever. In Chris’ opinion, as long as the man was able to tinker, he would outlive them all. 

“When are we going to start,” the old man asked, voice and demeanor gruff as always.

“Any moment now. We’re waiting to hear back from the scouts,” Dave answered.

Cid huffed and tapped his cane against the large metal pipe leaning against the railing next to Chris, a crate of ammunition close by. 

“You sure you can handle one of those, girl? You got enough muscle for it, but be careful of the recoil anyway. These pack quite the punch.”

Chris rolled her eyes facing the horde so the old man wouldn’t see it. “Yes Cid. I can and I’ll be careful.”

This wasn’t the first time the mechanic had told her that. Or all the others who had gotten what was basically a repurposed Niflheimr rocket launcher. 

A radio crackled. Dave answered and nodded.

It was time. 

With a sigh and a quiet prayer to the Astrals to keep the two people most important to her safe, she hefted the rocket launcher on her shoulder. She aimed like she had practiced. 

“Fire!” Dave shouted.

Chris pulled the trigger.

And the world exploded into light.

* * *

It was dark. Dark and quiet as a grave. 

But there was something different about the darkness now. Chris didn’t know when the ash like particles had stopped falling or when the last daemon had vanished. _For now_ , she thought, face grim.

She stood on the viewing platform, looking up at the roiling clouds. All she wanted now was to fall into bed and sleep for at least a year. But she couldn’t. Not now when there was so much to do and so little time. Who knew when the daemons would show up again. 

It was so quiet.

There was no one here with her, most people being busy repairing the walls. Aranea’s ship sat on the pockmarked road, dark and empty. The crates full of meteor shards had been unloaded some time ago.

Chris closed her eyes and breathed a quiet sigh. She was still alive. Dave was alive, Cid and Cidney and Vyv and Iris. Granny Betula and her husband. Her son, Ales. 

What was Gladio doing right now? He hadn’t called her. Not even once. It made something in her chest hurt. 

Another sigh escaped her lips. Her hands scraped over her face and carded through her matted hair. She was positively crusted in dirt, dust and sweat. Her muscles protested near every move she made. Astrals, she was so tired.

Tired, hazel eyes blinked at the horizon. Chris froze, squinting. Something was different. Leaning over the balustrade, she directed all her attention towards the horizon. 

Was there…?

Was that…?

Chris felt her knees grow weak and it was like someone had punched the air out of her body. For a long moment she forgot to breathe. Only her body screaming for oxygen made her take a shuddering breath as she clung to the stone balustrade to keep standing.

There, at the horizon, the clouds had thinned to nothingness and showed a sky the blueish grey colour of pre-dawn. She stared. And stared. And kept staring as the oppressive clouds were chased away by the coming dawn. She stared while the sky started to turn into different shades of blue and a pinkish hue started to edge the clouds.

It was utterly beautiful. 

How was this possible?

Nothing had changed for ten years, had only gotten worse and worse and now suddenly…?

Her vision started to blur, but still Chris couldn’t tear her eyes away as light started to creep across the sky.

Patient. 

Inevitable.

Like it had never left.

Chris scrubbed at her eyes to clear her vision only to realize she was crying. Her hands shook. She kept staring. 

As red started to bleed across the horizon she had to remember something Gladio had told her once when they had lain together, limbs entangled and breaths in sync. 

“There is a prophecy,” he had whispered into the darkness of the bedroom. “It’s an ancient story about a King that will be chosen by the Astrals to banish the blight from our star. He’ll bring back the light.”

She hadn’t needed to ask which King he had meant. She hadn’t believed it then. Pitioss, she didn’t truly believe it now as she watched the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. A sunrise. 

Her next breath shuttered in her chest. Gladio. Without really realizing what she was doing, she fished out her phone from the depths of a pocket of her sturdy cargo pants. One new message. It was from Gladio.

With trembling fingers she unlocked the screen, the background picture showing her son when he had been half a year old playing in the sand of the sun flooded beach of Galdin Quay. Her son, who would see the sun and remember it. A new wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. 

She tipped at the screen and Gladio’s voice drifted around her.

 _“Hey Chris. I’m pretty sure Iris talked to you, so you know what is going on. Astrals, Chris, I can’t believe- He’s back, and I-”_ A shuddering breath sounded. _“Damn. This is so much more difficult than I thought. We’re on our way to Insomnia, camped out right at the Ostium Gorge, in fact. Have you ever been-? No. I… I know you didn’t want me to go there, that you have something to tell me, but there is something I have to do. I swore an oath. He’s my brother and I… I… I love you, never doubt that. The chances of us surviving are pretty slim, but if we succeed… you’ll see the sun again. Ales will see the sun again.”_ A pause. Gladio’s voice was thick with unshed tears. _“Tell him I love him. He has the spirit of an Amicitia. You two were what kept me sane during the last few years. I don’t think I would have made it, if not for you two. Please… Fuck. I’ve never… been the best at saying goodbye. Please live. Live and find happiness. And remember- just remember. I love you.”_

Chris stood there, clutching her phone in trembling hands. And, as the first true rays of sunlight crept over the land, broke down crying. 

[Art done](https://uploadsforjaselin.tumblr.com/image/642250215953498112) by my amazing partner for this project: agent-jaselin! [Come visit them on Tumblr!](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Heya guys!  
> Thank you for reading! This work any maybe also the others belonging to this project.  
> The Major Character Death tag is for Gladio. Because I really think Ignis, Prompto and him died in canon.  
> If you liked it, I might be convinced to write out the siege in it's entirety in an accompanying work. Tell me in the comments, please so I can gauge interest.


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